


Parenthood!

by ValkyrieRaisingCain



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 09:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15771246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyrieRaisingCain/pseuds/ValkyrieRaisingCain
Summary: A wild and ridiculous story I wrote for english class.  Was pissed off with everything Victor did so...I made him take responsibility for his actions through Clerval.  Short, but really stupid as hell and I'm v proud idek.All in all...just a story about friends made along the way :)





	Parenthood!

The eyes of the daemon haunted my vision as I fled from my despised laboratory to my bedchambers.  Pale, sickly eyes in a face so horrendous...Oh! Why was I so blinded by the pursuit of magnificent glory and the creation of life?  Never for a moment did I stop my obsessions and ponder whether such a creation would benefit society or seize me with triumphant success.  Rather, my mind and body convulsed with anguish and distress. Now very clear was it to me which was the course of continuing my studies—leaving them behind to chase such a cursed subject was foolish!  

Ripped from the hinges, the door thundered against the planks of the floor.  The grotesque being began to enter the room, but his height prevented his entry at first.  Once—twice—the creature’s pale forehead cracked against the frame of the door. Confusion filled his countenance as he fumbled with a large hand to understand the mechanics of the door.  My muscles remained frozen and unmoving as he bent his body to enter the bedchamber. An unsettling grin affixed itself on his thin, grey lips as he caught sight of me once more. The thing lunged for me, and I released from my breast a wicked scream of horror and thence carried myself quickly past the creature out of the room.  

Heavy steps pursued my retreat, spurring me on at a greater speed toward my exit—my salvation.  I threw open the door and slammed it shut in the face of hell. Alas, my hasty escape did not end there—I continued toward the stairs which would remove me from the building entirely.  Not far from the steps, I casted my eyes behind my shoulder for a sign of the daemon. The halls remained empty of the beast, but the relief in my veins was not enough to drain away the fear.  

A soft body collided with mine.  I stumbled into the arms of another, terror clouding my ability to conjure the thought of anything but the wretch.  My yell echoed in the halls, cut off only by the familiar voice of a friend.

“Great heavens, Victor!  It is only me, there is no need to be so distressed!” cried Henry Clerval, my friend.  My dear, dear friend.

I clung to his arms and shoulders with all the strength left in my body.  “Oh, Henry! Beloved man, you save me from my machinations!”

Then, in the moment, my vision became blacker than my fears.  I fainted.

 

A sting in my cheek woke me from my spell.  The thoughts of a dream became once more reality as Henry appeared before my vision, hand raised as if to strike.  My arms flew to my face in an effort to stop the blow from landing.

“My friend—please!  I wake, there is no need to raise a hand to me.”  

He lowered his arm, relief flitting over his kind features.  I sat up, my hand wending through my snarled hair. My fingers found dampness.  I puzzled over the feeling, and the damp of my shirt as well. “What has been done to me?” I marveled at my appearance.

“You were refusing to wake from your stupor,” said Henry.  “Smelling salts were no help, nor water. Frankly, I was made to resort to a physical method.”

I wished to stand, but Henry’s hand weighed heavy on my shoulder.  “I thank you, Henry, for waking me. I must ask you, was it necessary to?”

“Very necessary, I will admit.  I believe we may have something rather crucial to discuss,” answered Henry.  He motioned to the tall man standing a distance away. I realized then we were in my apartment; the rather tall man was not a man at all but the creature itself.  

My fatigue fled my body, and I flung myself over the back of the chaise I had been resting on.  To my astonishment, nothing occured. The room remained silent, no crashing or thrashing or growls.  I sat up enough to cast an eye over the chaise. Henry and the daemon stood side by side—Henry with a quizzical expression, and the creature another maniacal grin.  Did I make a mistake constructing his face? Is it frozen in such a ghastly way forever?

“Henry...he—it is dangerous,” I warned the dear man, my voice like leaves shaking in a breeze.  “I implore you—please—run while you are able.”

If possible, Henry’s countenance became ever more perplexed.  “Frankly, I must ignore your request, for the man has not done nor uttered anything which supports your claim,” said he, gaze brought to the contorted face of the creature.  Astonishment quaked in my breast—no thought or expression of disgust appeared on his fine features. I could not close my eyes without seeing the face of my creation and shuddering.  “I ask as well, Victor, how on earth did he come to be? I saw your laboratory...the blood...the tools...the remains...My dear, did you—”

“Yes!” The volume of my answer startled the creature.  He lumbered backwards with the grin finally erased from his lips.  Henry placed a hand on the monster’s forearm which resulted in him calming in moments.  I nearly fainted once more at Henry’s daring bravery.

My words failed me in my attempt to speak again, but they did not return to me until the next attempt.  “I created him. Every muscle, every organ, every stitch. It was all done by my hand.” I stood and gripped the back of the chaise, unable to trust myself to remain conscious.  “A wretch!” I cried. “I created a wretch—a monster—a—”

Henry shushed me before he urged the creature to step across the room and observe individuals strolling the streets below.  “It is not required of you to refer to him as such things,” scolded Henry. “If you had as much control over his creation as you say, why did you provide him with features which frighten you so?”

My focus returned once more to the wretch.  As his back was to me, I did not become possessed by shudders of horror.  “I tried to make him beautiful.”

“Well... _tried_ , yes.  He definitely exists not in the realm of David Bowie stunning.”

“Who?”  Was I so enveloped in my endeavours I missed the rise of a glorious name?  How much had culture changed in my past months of isolation?

“I have not the slightest idea.  I suppose it is someone fairer than all, in an inhuman way.  From the future and transcends time. I am able to envision him, but I have no recollection who he is, Victor.”

I felt I was in a nightmare or cursed with descending madness.  Henry—speaking endearingly of a man not known! And defending the daemon from his loving friend!  How odd it all was!

“I must also inquire from you: Why on earth would you make him such a stature?  He is hardly able to cross any thresholds.”

My shoulders arched as if those of a gargoyle’s.  I thought bitterly of my own stature, a height not much higher than that of a large miniature horse.  “To contain the power of the life essence I bestowed upon him, of course!” replied I. It had nothing to do with the horse.  “Now I regret the height which I designed—and the pale sickly eyes. Everything about him—it fills me with regret and dread! We must flee—leave him to his own devices!”

Henry latched onto my arm before I had the chance to flee toward the door.  I dared not to pull away from him or make a scene, lest the monster take notice and attempt pursuit.  Henry implored for me to remain: “Victor, I cannot allow this. The creature—the man requires guidance if he is truly a newborn.  No matter his appearance...he must have the same nurture and care as we did as children. You are responsible for his upbringing as his creator.”

I knew in my heart that morally Henry was right.  Leaving would unleash the creature onto the world, possibly bringing devastation and anguish to others.  The ultimate fear assaulting me was one of losing my dear Henry over choosing to abandon the wretch. As long as he aided me in the raising and teaching of the creature, I found I could bare the task.

“My dear, I find you bring enlightenment on the subject,” said I.  A surprised light entered Henry’s eyes at my quick agreement. “I shall take up the raising of the creature.  I ask of you, my close companion, will you share this burden with me? There is doubt I am able to do it all alone.”

A smile spread across the handsome face of Henry’s.  He grasped my hand and answered with delight. “Of course I shall help you.  The love and resources of two are much better than that of only one.” He called to the creature, drawing its attention which I had not desired.  “Do you hear? You have a home, my boy!”

The creature lumbered closer to us, sickly lips pulled into that warbling grin.  The sounds which issued from its mouth were guttral and not of any language known.  I yelped in fright and hid behind the taller stature of my friend.

“God fated me with an ugly wretch, one born to haunt me!”

Henry spun on his heel, a scolding expression alighting his countenance.  “My dear Victor, that is no manner of which you should speak of our child!  Now, we must name him rather than consistently call him such cruel names...”

 

Fall passed swiftly, told through the colors slowly fading from the trees and sky.  Winter contained little color aside from greys and browns. The sights from the windows granted me little reprieve from my nerves.  

Gazing upon the creature—Chadwell, as Henry and I had decided upon—still wrought havoc on my being.  Happily, it lessened slightly with each day I beheld him. Henry’s presence brought comfort and peace each day for all three of us.  His calming demeanor and kind words created an atmosphere my anxieties could hardly penetrate.

I was pleased with the progression of Chadwell as well—his speech became intelligible as he learned both French and English, often alone through listening to Henry and I converse.  Reading was the next hurdle he surpassed, flying through _Paradise Lost_ with near ease and decent speed.  To be quite honest...I was proud of Chadwell.  His mind held greatness and potential just a scant few months from his first breath; he spoke eloquently and could hold conversations of wit and knowledge.  I began to enjoy the company of my creation and dismissed the shudders which abhorred me when beholding him.

Once, at the beginning of winter, Father and Elizabeth called upon us on a surprise visit.  Henry and I feared the reactions of our beloved family, resulting in our hiding of Chadwell in a closet.  The action confused the poor creature. He rattled the doors and moaned—as this was a time before his speech developed to the extent of beauty and wit—and caused confusion among the guests.  I sweated profusely as I held the bulging doors closed, Henry too rigid with fright to assist in holding back Chadwell or conjure excuses. Thankfully, we were able to urge Father and Elizabeth down to a café to chat and conduct their visit.  We planned and organized ourselves in the aftermath for the next visit.

Chadwell remained hidden, but the encounter left him with feelings of loneliness and depression.  He admitted to wanting more companions and taking up an adventure, though he knew of the consequences and dangers.  I decided to take matters into my own hands and make as happy as I could.

I took up creating another being, spending my spring gathering the materials in secret for such a companion.  It was required of me to learn new anatomy and conjure the pieces I needed to weave together the creature. With my past experiences in this newfound science, less time passed before the new companion for Chadwell entered life.  I succeeded for a second time in the creation of a living, breathing creature.

Finally, I introduced Chadwell to his companion.  I observed with joy the light brightening in Chadwell’s eyes beholding a being of similar stature and grace.

Henry entered from his classes not long after the introduction occurred.  His books slipped from his grasp as he craned his neck to take in the sight of the new creature.  The color of his fair skin became paler than that of milk.

“Victor!  What _on earth_ have you _done_!” cried he, a hand coming forth to cover his mouth.  His cries caught the attention of Chadwell and the beast beside him.

The horse stood the same eight feet as Chadwell, its mane and tail of tangled hair of a similar texture and black color.  It possessed no hair other than that of the tail and mane—the horse’s skin was alabaster and thin. The veins of the creature were pronounced and vivid blues underneath.  A glimpse of the vertebrae of the spine could be seen by the eye as well. The only difference between it and Chadwell was in the eyes. Chadwell possessed pale and yellowing eyes, whereas I supplied the horse with wells of impenetrable black.  Its hooves were of black ink not unlike the eyes. As haunting as the horse was, it truly was the pinnacle of its species. Beautiful, stunning, and strong.

“Chadwell wished for a friend, so I produced one for him,” answered I, and my breast swelled with pride.  I brought happiness to one creation with another.

Henry stumbled around the room to collapse onto the chaise he had laid me upon months before.  “Why—Why must it have been a horse? Why not create something smaller—a cat or a dog? Why not find a cat on the street?  How many strays roam our streets?”

My shoulders slouched; my pride was hurt.  “I hold the power to bring life to existence.  Am I not allowed to use such knowledge?”

“I pray you realize most creatures on earth have the power to create life,” Henry replied, evidently annoyed.  “Creating a...horse...was not the simplest solution for this problem.”

“Observe him!  See how happy our son is with his companion.  I created another life, and it brings pleasure to him.  What could possibly cause trouble here?”

The horse opened its mouth, the pearl-white teeth glistening in the lamplight.  Henry nor Chadwell nor I were anticipating what would occur next.

“Hello, Father.”

**Author's Note:**

> rip in peace Bowie 
> 
> references to horses due to my enjoyment of the mcelroy bros and john mulaney
> 
> pls yell at me for how awful this is bc i love how horrendous this all is lmao


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